


5 times Allen slept in + 1 time he didn't

by sea_level



Category: Project Blue Book (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, But also, Coffee, Domesticity, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Starts With J. Allen Hynek/Mimi Hynek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 16:02:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18369365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sea_level/pseuds/sea_level
Summary: Basically what it says on the tin.A series of (very) short stories where Allen sleeps in (or is woken up), probably because he stayed up too late the night before for science.+ the one time he actually wakes up early.





	5 times Allen slept in + 1 time he didn't

**Author's Note:**

> This one's for you, anon.
> 
> Also for reference, my sleep-in time starts at 8:30 AM, because I know everyone has a different idea of what counts as a reasonable wake-up time.

{1}  
{1950}

When Allen wakes up, he’s alone. The bed’s cold and there’s a cup of coffee on the bedside table.

The clock reads an abysmally late 11:27 AM. Allen sits up with a groan. At least it’s a Saturday. All his responsibilities are his to resolve on his own time without a strict schedule.

He tries the coffee. It tastes like shit now that it’s cold and settled, but he downs it anyways. The caffeine makes him feel a little more human.

Breakfast is already put away when he gets to the kitchen, dressed for a day in. He rinses his mug and then, after a second’s hesitation, washes it as something of an apology for waking up so late.

From the sink, he spots Joel out in the front yard playing with friends. There’s a little more rough-housing going on than he’d prefer, but it’s important for Joel to learn about that on his own, so he lets it be.

He prepares himself some toast and then wanders through the house until he finds Mimi. She’s in the garage, unloading laundry from the dryer into a hamper.

“Morning,” he says, setting his plate down on the washing machine so he can give her a quick peck on the lips.

Mimi smiles. “I suppose it is, isn’t it? Morning still? It’ll be noon soon.”

“I’m sorry,” Allen says. “I got caught up in my—”

“In your work,” Mimi interrupts. “I know. It’s always the same thing.”

“Here let me,” he leans down to pick up the hamper once she’s finished filling it, but Mimi tsks, and pushes him away.

“You’ll forget your plate in here if I let you,” she says. “Just join me in bed at a normal, human time tonight, okay?”

“Yeah,” Allen promises. “I will.”

* * *

{2}  
{1952}

Allen wakes to Mimi shaking his shoulder roughly. At first he doesn’t register it, and the action simply gets incorporated into his dream (he’s on a boat on stormy seas), but Mimi’s hissed, “Allen, the phone is ringing,” gets him up.

“What time is it?” Allen groans, rubbing his eyes blearily.

“It’s 8,” Mimi says. She’s already dressed for a day out, her hair done up neatly to keep it out of her face.

Allen groans and then stumbles out of bed for his office.

When he picks up the phone, he can’t decide if Michael’s voice on the other end is welcome or not.

“We’ve got a case,” Michael says.

“Alright,” Allen says. “Give me a moment.”

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Michael doesn’t bother to hide his amusement.

“Late night,” Allen replies.

Michael whistles. “Out partying? I didn’t know you had it in you,” he teases.

“Yes,” Allen says, deadpan. “I had an absolutely wild time with the Encyclopedia Britannica. I’ll tell you all about it when I get to the office.”

“Never change, Doc,” Michael says, and then adds, just before he hangs up, “And don’t rush yourself. This one’s not so time sensitive.”

Allen sets the phone down into the receiver and then closes his eyes. He can feel himself being pulled back to sleep, but he’s quickly snapped out of it when Mimi walks into the room.

“I take it that was the Captain,” she says.

“Yeah,” Allen replies. “I’ll have to call the University to let them know I’m not coming in.”

Mimi nods. “Stay safe,” she says and leaves.

Allen’s left staring at the space she’d occupied.

* * *

{3}  
{1953}

The scent of coffee is so strong and so sudden that it pulls Allen straight into the land of the living. Everything’s blurry and bright and very, very unwelcome, except the coffee, which is pushed into his hands. His mouth tastes something foul, but it’s quickly replaced. There’s way too much sugar in it, but he’s grateful for it this time.

Allen feels movement on the top of his head, and his glasses are carefully lowered onto his nose.

“Morning, Doc,” Michael says, a small smile on his face. “I thought I told you to take the cot?”

“I was planning on it,” Allen replies, setting the empty cup down on his desk.

“Can’t be good to sleep slumped over a desk, especially at your age,” Michael says. “You got the Mississippi on your cheek there.” He gestures to the side of his face. “I thought we were staying in Pennsylvania for this one.”

Allen stares at the newspaper article that he’d fallen asleep on. It takes a little bit of thinking, but the thoughts he’d formed the night before come back to him. “Related incident. Suggests human interference instead of anything extraterrestrial or supernatural. We don’t have to go all the way down to Arkansas to confirm it.”

“Glad to hear it,” Michael says. He sets another cup of coffee down on the table. “I suppose I should be glad that your very late night was productive, but next time just go to sleep.”

“Who knows how long it would have taken to find this, though, if I hadn’t stayed up,” Allen says, but his joints creak as he stands up, and he belatedly wishes he’d managed to spend the night properly horizontal.

“How about this,” Michael offers. “When I go to sleep, you go to sleep too. If I stay up really late, then you’ll know it’s important that we find things quickly. If I don’t, then it’s okay to let things take a few days.”

“Alright,” Allen acquiesces.

“Go lie down for a little bit,” Michael says, nudging him in the direction of the cot, “even if you don’t sleep. I know you drained that cup of coffee in a few seconds flat. I’ll get everything ready, and then I’ll come to get you. Sounds good?”

Allen sits down on the cot with a little more force than he’d expected. His body is tired even if his brain is up and running. “Sounds good,” he says.

* * *

{4}  
{1954}

“Allen, lemme go,” Michael says, but Allen ignores it, pulling him closer. He’s warm and comfortable, and it’s way too early to be awake.

Michael lets it be for about two minutes before he pushes against Allen’s arms. “Allen,” he says faux sweetly. “Allen. I need to go. I have a meeting with the Generals.”

It’s very easy for Allen to just not hear a word Michael says. The only reason he’s even remotely conscious is because Michael had made sure they’d gone to bed at the same time. He’d been very convincing.

“You’re free to stay in bed until I get back,” Michael continues, pushing at Allen’s arms and trying to detangle their legs. Allen tries as hard as possible to keep him there without becoming conscious enough to actually strategize.

Except then Michael manages to stick a hand up Allen’s shirt, tickling him lightly.

Allen whines and jerks, loosening his hold. “Fine,” he mumbles, upset.

“Thank you,” Michael says, escaping the bed. He leans over to give Allen a quick kiss on his forehead. “I should be back about 9.” He tosses another blanket on top of Allen and then rummages through the closet for his uniform. “Love you,” he says.

“Love you,” Allen tries to reply, but sleep has its claws in him again, and he’s pretty sure it comes out unintelligible.

Michael’s light laughter is a good indication that he got the message loud and clear at least.

* * *

{5}  
{1956}

The bed dips and the smell of cooked eggs permeates the room.

It’s all very alluring, but Allen would rather keep on sleeping.

“Hey,” Michael says. “I made breakfast.” When Allen doesn’t react, he continues, “It’s going to get cold. It’s already 9.”

Allen’s sure he’ll feel a little guilty about it later, but he certainly doesn’t right now.

“I made it especially for you,” Michael says. “I’ve been getting better at sunny-side-up. Didn’t break the yolks this time.”

Okay, maybe Allen’s feeling a little guilty now. He’s even consciously registering most of the words Michael’s saying.

“You’re gonna leave me heart-broken here, Allen.” The bed dips lower as Michael crawls onto it completely. “Last chance,” he says, and Allen knows he’s probably going to pay for this later.

Something wet touches Allen’s ear, and he jolts away on instinct. It’s a very rude awakening. Nevermind. He’s paying for this now.

“Was that your tongue?” Allen protests, propping himself up on his arms and trying to lean as far away from Michael as possible.

“Good, you’re awake,” Michael says, scraping the offending tongue along this teeth. He lifts a tray off the bedside table and drops it on Allen’s lap. “I made breakfast. You don’t even have to get out of bed.”

There’s two plates on the tray, enough for the both of them. Michael lifts the sheets and gets under them, leaning back against the headrest.

“Thank you,” Allen says, shifting so that they’re shoulder to shoulder.

“Wake up next time, yeah?” Michael says, tugging the tray a little closer so that it’s evenly in their shared space.

Allen gives him a very flat look, and Michael laughs.

“I’ll do it again,” Michael tells him, sticking out his tongue. Allen reaches over and shoves a piece of toast in his mouth.

* * *

{+1}  
{19??}

Michael’s still asleep when Allen wakes up. It’s very strange, especially since it’s still dark outside, and he’s feeling weirdly energized.

Allen sits up and rubs at his eyes before reaching out for his glasses. He’s not entirely sure what he’s supposed to do. It’s not like he can just go back to sleep, and staring at the ceiling until Michael wakes up doesn’t sound very fun. He supposes he could get up and make breakfast and repay Michael for all the times he did it.

It’s no use. He must have moved too much, because Michael lurches upward and squints at him, confused.

“What’re you doing up?” he asks, his voice rough with sleep.

Allen shrugs. “I don’t know. You can go back to sleep.”

“No, no,” Michael replies. “I’m up.” He blinks a few times and then looks at Allen scrutinizingly. “We probably went to bed a little too early. Your body isn’t used to it.”

“Is that even how that works?” Allen asks.

“Dunno,” Michael says. “Sometimes.” He reaches over and tangles his hands in Allen’s hair before pulling him over for a kiss. “Mmh, morning breath.”

Allen laughs and leans back. “What time is it anyway?”

“5:30 about,” Michael says, twisting around to look at the clock. “Guess I felt like sleeping in.”

“Is this really when you get up?” Allen asks.

“Just about,” Michael replies. “Gives me time to exercise and makes it so that I don’t usually have to rush to work or anything. Better than 4:30 mornings.”

Allen shudders.

“Yeah, I’m glad I don’t have to do those anymore,” Michael agrees. He yawns and stretches and Allen admires the view. He’s seen it lots of times before, but never in this specific context. He has to go in for another kiss.

Michael hums into it contentedly. “I guess you really are awake.”

Allen laughs and says, “Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> Allen's not actually a night owl. He's just a shitty sleeper (mood)
> 
> Here's the relevant post: [[link]](https://pentopello.tumblr.com/post/183956661035/holaaaa-just-read-your-newest-fic-again-as)


End file.
